The Game
by DarthMittens
Summary: Baseball tears apart Harry and Hermione's relationship. Is this really the end?
1. Pregame

**A/N: Just letting you know, this is a story about baseball. It's mostly a love story, but it does contain a little baseball.**

**This is my first foray into the wonderful world of fanfiction, so please give me a little mercy from your wrath.**

**The Game**

**Chapter 1-Pregame-November 3****rd****, 2002**

**Harry**

I hold my jersey in my hands, tracing the red number 7 on the back. I bring it up to my nose and take a deep whiff, the familiar scent of clean grass and dirt invades my nostrils. I hear lockers slamming around me, and the clack of metal spikes on the locker room floor beats a rhythm on my eardrums. I throw my jersey on and pick up my glove, and run my hands over the cool, beaten leather, my only friend in The Game. I taste tears in my mouth, the salt attacks my tongue.

Not bothering to wipe the tears from my face, I clasp the locket around my neck, just like I've done every single game. I bring it up to my lips and kiss it, just like I've done every single game. I open it and look at the pictures, both of Hermione, just like I've done every single game. I tuck the locket under my undershirt and press it against my heart, just like I've done every single game. I slam my locker shut and punch it, which I've never done before.

I sit down on the bench and wipe away my tears; no outside emotions are allowed in The Game, or it will tear you apart. Nevertheless, I hear Hermione's words from five hours ago.

"_Everything's about baseball! Everything! You care more about a game than you do me!"_

"_That's a lie! I love you! And it's more than just a game, it's my life!"  
_

"_Then make a choice, Harry. Me or the game. I can't live like this any more, I'm losing you to a game." Tears flow freely down her beautiful face._

"_I want you, Hermione."_

"_Then promise me, right now. Promise me that this is your last game."_

"_I can't do that. Give me a week, and I can tell you. But not right now."_

"_No! I need an answer, now!"_

"_Please, Hermione! Just a week!"_

"_If you even need to think about it, then you don't love me like I love you. I'll give you one more chance."_

_We stand there for five minutes, I can't answer. Hermione rises up on her toes, kisses my cheek, and presses something into my hand. Her shrunken luggage is already in her pocket, she knew I wouldn't be able to answer._

_She opens the door and hesitates; I can feel her gaze on my back. I don't turn around, and she whispers, "I love you, Harry."_

_Then she was gone._

_I open my hand, already knowing what the object is. I let slide off my hand, and the ring hits the floor with a dull thud._

A finger prods my back. I get up and turn around, and grasp my best friend's and catcher's forearm, Joey Beam.

"Hey, buck up, kid. You're about to win us our first World Series. You're the best pitcher we've ever had."

I can't muster a smile, so I just say, "Yeah."

He goes about the wrong way trying to cheer me up. "Hey, man. It's just a woman. There are more women than men out there. You'll find another one."

I close my eyes and shake my head, and walk up to the field. My home.

**Hermione**

I don't want to use magic to get back to London, and a long flight is just what I need to finish the book that I'm reading: _The Eye of the World_, by Robert Jordan.

A strand of hair pops out of my ponytail and falls into my face, and I lift up my left hand to brush it away. I stop before I reach my face, though. My hand feels too light.

I look at my ring finger, and there's a pale strip of skin that is paler than the rest of my hand. Almost two years I've worn that ring, and my hand already feels incomplete without it. I remember the day the day I got it clearly in my head, one month before Harry's first major league game.

"_I do." I'm looking up into Harry's smiling face, my _husband's_ smiling face._

"_You may kiss the bride." Harry wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him, and his warm lips press against mine, sealing the bond of marriage._

_He breaks the kiss, brings his lips up to my ear, and whispers, "I love you, Hermione. I'll always love you."_

_I whisper back, "I'll always love you too, Harry. Always."_

_We dance our first dance as husband and wife, and I feel complete._

I'm brought back to the present when an announcement blares out of the mounted speaker.

"Attention, all passengers waiting to board flight 473 to London. Due to unfortunate circumstances, the flight has been delayed for two hours. The new departure time is 9 P.M. Sorry for the inconvenience."

A collective groan rises from the people sitting near me. I check my watch: 6:02 P.M. A woman cradling a child on her hip sits next me and asks, "Are you okay, dear?" and holds out a handkerchief.

I bring my hand up and touch my face. I can feel the wet trails on my face where my tears ran. Dazed, I accept the proffered handkerchief and wipe my face, thanking the woman and assuring her that I'm fine.

**Harry**

The announcer reads off the lineups as the two teams line up on the base lines. Our opponents, the San Francisco Giants, are lined up on the first base line. The team that I play for, the Anaheim Angels, are lined up on the third base line.

All the players put their caps over their hearts but me. I place mine over the locket and find myself drifting back to the she gave it to me as the national anthem begins.

"_Happy first anniversary, Harry!" Hermione's lovely voice wakes me up._

_I sit up against the headboard as Hermione shoves a wrapped parcel into my hand. I grab my wand with my other hand and accio Hermione's gift from it's hiding place in the closet. I give it to her, and we both tear into our gifts at the same time._

_I open a small box and see a locket resting on the bottom. It's in the shape of a heart, bu somehow its still manly._

"_Harry, I love it!" She hooks the necklace that I got her around her neck. The red ruby in the shape of a heart rests just above her breasts. "Open it, Harry!"_

_I open the locket that she gave me. There's a picture of Hermione in her wedding dress on the left, and a picture of her smiling face on the right. "Now you can always bring me onto the field with you."_

_I gather her in my arms and give her a kiss. Our marriage had hit a rough patch near the end of the baseball season because I had been neglecting her for baseball. Everything turned out fine when the season ended, though, and here we are, laughing and kissing, celebrating our first anniversary. We beam at each other and kiss again._

I hear the crowd cheering; the seventh game of the World Series is starting. I walk up to the mound and grab the ball, pushing all thoughts of the woman I love aside.

Hermione

I look at the sun. There are still another 15 minutes of sunlight left. I look at my watch again, and it reads 7:00. My heart has been aching for the last hour, so I decide to head to the bar.

There is a bunch of people there, and a nice man gives up his seat for me. I order a martini and stare into it. I hear the name "Harry Potter" and glance up. All eleven TVs in the bar are tuned to the World Series game.

Harry is warming up, firing the ball into the catcher's mitt. I tell myself to leave, to end my suffering, but I can't. It's Harry, and I can't tear my eyes away from the face of the love of my life.


	2. Innings 1 Through 3

**Chapter 2 – Innings 1-3**

**Harry**

The ball fires into the catcher's mitt. "STRIKE THREE!" The first batter is down on strikes. I catch the ball when Joey tosses it back to me and go back to the top of the mound, digging into the dirt right in front of the rubber with my toe, trying to make a divot.

I set up again and Joey gives me the sign for a curveball. I go through my wind-up and snap my wrist as I let go of the ball. The batter isn't fooled for an instant. He rips the ball down the third base line, a sure double. Suddenly a glove is in the way, snagging the ball out of the air.

The third baseman, Travis Marks, gets up and grins at me, then tosses the ball to the second baseman. I say, "Thanks," as the ball goes to the shortstop, Kris Paulino, who throws it to me.

Standing on the mound, I look at the payer's wives' seats just above the third base dugout. Joey's wife, Amanda, looks at me, her face tear-streaked. She glances at the empty seat next to her and back at me. I take a deep breath and prepare to face the next batter.

**Hermione**

I see Harry glance toward the dugout, but I know he's looking just above it, just like he does before he smiles that knee-weakening smile at me. This time there's no smile, his jaw just tightens and he looks back at Joey to get the sign. I feel bad for Amanda, my best friend in the states. I remember our first conversation.

_I walk with Harry into the Beam's home; they're throwing a party for the start of the new season. We step inside and I'm immediately dragged off by a short, pretty woman who says, "I'm Amanda. Joey's wife. The guys do _their_ thing, and we ladies do _our_ thing."_

_We walk through what is obviously a game room, which has billiards tables, a bar, and arcade machines. Harry's teammates call him over and he joins them with a "See you, love," to me._

_I get dragged into an adjacent sitting room full of chattering women. Amanda introduces me to them, pulls me aside to an empty sofa, and explains who each woman is either dating or married to._

_After a few drinks I start to get a little tipsy, and when Amanda asks me what school I went to, I accidentally say Hogwarts. I immediately go for my wand to rectify my mistake, but Amanda puts a hand on my arm._

"_Don't take that out here! Do you want to have to obliviate everyone in the room?"_

"_You're a witch?" I whisper._

"_Yes. Joey's not a wizard, but he knows about me. And he…wait a minute, your husband is _the _Harry Potter?"_

"_Yes, he is."_

"_Wow…is he good in the sack?"_

After that, Amanda and I were best friends. We did everything together, and thinking about her makes leaving that much harder.

I watch as Harry mows down the third batter in three pitches.

**Harry**

The crowd explodes in a thunderous cheer, and I head toward the dugout. I bring my hand up to my lips to perform my post-inning ritual, and then bunch it into a fist as I remember that I can't do it now. Hermione and I would kiss our fingertips, press them together, and bring them back to our own lips, like a kiss.

I sigh and head down the bench to sit by myself. I pat Travis on the shoulder on the way there, and use all of my willpower to muster a smile. "Great snag. That was brilliant."

He slaps me on the back as I continue on and he says, "Thanks, Harry. Nice throwing."

I take off my glove and plop onto the very end of the bench. I don't bother to put on my jacket; it's still warm out. I lean my head back and put my cap over my face. Hermione's vanilla shampoo permeates my nostrils. I breathe it in shakily, willing myself not to cry as I realize that I'll never fall asleep to that smell ever again, or perform my post-inning ritual, or hold her in my arms, or kiss her pouty lips.

The pitching coach, Frank Hawk, interrupts my train of thought when he hits my cap off of my face. "Hey, kid. Wake up, I need to talk to you."

I talk to him, glad that he's distracting me from my pain. Our lead-off man walks, but the inning ends quickly with a double-play and a pop-out. I slip my glove on and head back out to go to work.

**Hermione**

The first batter hits a lazy pop fly to Kris after an eight-pitch at bat. I can tell that Harry's getting in the zone when he lets off three pitches and strikes the next batter out. The next batter digs in, and I can't help but smile.

**Harry**

I smile my first real smile of the day. Ryan Michaels smiles back at me. I remember my last day of university, the day we parted ways.

"_Well, Ryan. It was good playing with you." I hold out my hand and he shakes it._

"_Yeah, it was. You have a gift, Harry, don't waste it."_

"Hey, you have a gift, too. You're going to San Francisco!"

"_Took me four years of college. How did you get drafted after only two years of college ball? You're first two years ever even playing baseball!"_

"_Hey, what can I say? I'm just naturally gifted."_

_Ryan chuckles, turns, and starts walking away. Just as he gets to his car he calls over his shoulder, "And Hermione! You keep Harry wrapped around your finger! You're a good influence on him!"_

_Hermione and I smile at each other, then turn to wave as Ryan drives away._

I mutter softly, "Sorry, Ryan. You never could hit off me in practice."

He goes down swinging on an eye-level fastball.

He laughs, and I look at him as I walk off the field. I read his lips as he say, "Not fair," to himself. I wallow in my misery at the end of the bench, and this time nobody comes to talk to me.

**Hermione**

I watch as the Joey, the number four batter, rips a single up the middle. The next batter grounds into a double play, and all of the guys in the bar shout, "Oh, come on!"

I do nothing, just watch the screen. The cameras cut to Harry, cap off, messy raven hair all over the place. His pitching stats from the regular season pop onto the screen. I stave off tears as I realize that I'll never be held, never be kissed by that man; I'll never run my fingers through his silky locks again.

He's staring at something, staring at the sky. I turn around and see a giant half-moon filling the midnight-black sky. I look back at the screen, but all it shows is the Angel's number six hitter striking out.

**Harry**

I'm back on the mound getting the sign from Joey. Curveball. I shake my head at him. _It's the number seven batter, why would I start him off with a curve?_

He flashes curveball again, and I shake him off again. He finally signals for a fastball. I let the ball rip and the batter holds out his bat for a bunt. _Oh crap, I should've thrown a curve._

It's a perfect bunt down the third base line, but my seeker reflexes give me a good jump. I'm also the fastest pitcher in the league. I rush over to the ball and flip it to the first baseman in time to beat the runner by two steps. For the eight and nine batters I follow Joey's signs and they go down easily.

Back on the bench, my eyes begin to mist as I stare at the half-moon again.

**Hermione**

They cut to Harry again, and he's back to staring at the moon. He's hiding his emotions, which means that I know he's trying not to cry, the only emotion he won't show on the field. I look up at the same moon that Harry's looking at and I _do_ begin to cry.

_I'm lying down on my back and staring at the moon with Harry, the beautiful half-moon that gives our skin a pearlescent glow. We're done with school, having just graduated last week._

_We stay like that, in perfect silence, for half an hour, just enjoying each other's company and the moon, when Harry says, "I'm going to a muggle university in America."_

_I prop myself on my elbow to face him. "Why?"_

_He mirrors my posture. "I dunno. I just want to."_

"_Well, I understand wanting to try something, but you're not leaving me here. We'll rent an apartment together."_

"_No, Hermione. I just need to get away for awhile."_

"I know, and I'm coming with you!"

_He shouts, "Why? Why do you insist on coming with me?"_

"_Because I…because…" It's do or die, I have to let him know how I feel. Summoning up all of my courage, I lean forward and press my lips to his._

_Harry kisses me back softly and pulls me to lie on top of him. We snog passionately for awhile, and eventually detach. I smile down at him. "I insist on coming with you because I love you, Harry."_

Her brushes his lips against mine and says, "I love you, too."

_I roll off of him and we both go back to staring at the moon. He reaches over and grabs my hand, and our fingers intertwine. The moon has never looked so beautiful._

Loud groans rip me back to the present. The Angels just went down in order. I glance at my watch and it reads 7:55.

**A/N: Stay tuned either tomorrow or Friday for chapter 3!**


	3. Inning 4

**A/N: Sorry about the delay, I came down with food poisoning and was sick from Friday through the weekend! **

**Just for clarification for anyone that is confused: Harry attended university in the USA and was drafted by the Anaheim Angels (Now known as the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim ****). So he's playing in the states.**

**And just to let you all know, this is my least favorite story out of all of the ones I've written. I'll be posting better stories once this one is finished.**

**Anywhoozles…I'll get on with the story now.**

**Chapter 3 - Inning 4**

**Hermione**

The nice man that gave up his seat for me is still here, and I ask him to save my seat while I rush over to the bathroom. I clean up my face and splash some water on it to calm down.

I rush back to find that I've only missed one out, another strike out. The next batter comes up and drives the first pitch into the gap. I watch the centerfielder, Jerome Smith, running as fast as he can, racing the ball to its landing spot. His cap flies off, but it doesn't pull his attention away from the quickly-falling baseball.

_He's not going to make it!_

Jerome jumps, stretching his body out parallel to the ground. He reaches out and just barely catches the ball in the tip of his glove, then slides a good five feet on the grass when he lands. The guys around me jump and cheer, spilling beer everywhere.

The ball makes its way back to Harry, who still isn't smiling. He glances at the moon, takes off his cap, holds it to his face, and takes a deep breath through his nose. When he puts the cap back on he's finally smiling, but twin tears are making their way down his cheeks, glistening in the moonlight. I start crying again, and my tears drip off my chin into my martini.

Harry has two hats. He wears the same one every time he pitches and his other hat on all of his rest days. I wear his pitching hat to the ballpark on every one of his rest days, and I know that he was smelling me, smiling because of me.

He touches his chest and steps back onto the rubber.

**Harry**

I can't hold back my tears. For the first time ever, I'm crying on the field. I was thinking of Hermione, that's why my curveball hung like a juicy piece of meat for that last batter. That's why you have to leave all emotion out of The Game, it leads to mistakes. I needed to calm down, and for that I needed Hermione. So I took in her scent and thought about our first kiss, and our first time making love, on her 21st birthday, the same day that I proposed to her.

Hence the current tears. I step off of the rubber and take a deep breath, but the tears just keep on coming. Joey's jogging up to me, concern evident on his face. He stops in front of me, holds his glove in front of his mouth, and says, "What's wrong, man? Jerome's catch was beautiful, but there's no need to cry over it."

My glove is over my mouth, over my face, and I cry into it, and I yell, no doubt loud enough for my teammates to hear, "She's gone! It's my fault! I love her, man! I love her!"

No doubt my coach thinks that I'm hurt, because he's jogging up to the mound. He comes up and says, "What's the matter, kid? Break a fingernail?"

Joey looks at him. "His wife left him earlier today. I think it's just hitting him."

Frank pulls me face to face with him by the front of my shirt, pulls down my glove, and smacks me across my face. "Pull yourself together, kid. Crying isn't going to bring her back. Now, we have a game to win, Here's what you have to do…"

**Hermione**

The guys around me are laughing. I'm laughing…and crying. I'm crying because I know why Harry's crying. Everyone thinks it's because he's injured, but I know better.

Harry pitched three innings with a broken ankle in college; he just gritted his teeth and mowed the opposing team down batter after batter. He broke his right index finger 10 minutes before another college game, and then proceeded to throw seven shutout innings. He has a very high pain tolerance.

It's kind of Harry's fault that he's crying, and not just because he chose the game over me. I wasn't going to breach the subject until tomorrow, but he brought it up, and my response was the only possible answer. He said, "Hermione, why are you so distant with me lately?" I had to tell him the truth, which led to me making him choose between me and baseball.

I knew, in the end, that he probably wouldn't choose me. The Game is more than a game to him, it's his life. I know he loves me, but I just can't be second to baseball; I need undivided love.

Harry mounts the mound and throws a couple practice pitches with the trainer standing to one side nodding. But I know the trainer won't see anything wrong. He's broken on the inside.

**Harry**

I feign injury to give everyone the idea that I was crying because of something baseball related. I needed I good cry, I feel much better now. I whip the ball over the plate with deadly precision, and play resumes.

Three pitches. The half-inning is over in three pitches on a looking strike-out.

I sit on the bench, thinking of Hermione, using my grief to feed the flame of determination in my head.

I stand up and join my teammates at the fence next to the field. Kris Paulino, our number three batter, draws a walk. There's one out in the inning and Joey steps up to the plate. The Giants pitcher lets the ball fly, CRACK! The crowd explodes in a cacophony of cheers as the ball carries…carries…carries…and clears the left-center wall by a good 20 feet and lands in the rocks. Fireworks shoot up and the crowd just gets louder as Joey jogs around all four bases for the third time in the World Series. The team and I are jumping around like giddy schoolgirls and high-fiving each other left and right.

Joey touches home and walks into the dugout while he strips off his batting gloves. He's engulfed by the team as they slap his back and give him high-fives.

He comes and stands next to me and we both turn towards the field to watch the game. After a couple seconds, he sighs contentedly and says, "Ah…you've gotta love this game."

"It's not really a game though, it's your life," I correct him.

He looks at me like I grew a second head. "No…a game. _Amanda_ is my life. Your life is something that you can't live without. Baseball is just…I dunno, baseball."

Uncertainty and dread start to creep up on me. "So you would choose Amanda over baseball?"

Now he looks at me like I'm absolutely crazy. "Of course. Baseball's great, but…" A dreamy and faraway look that reminds of Luna washes over his face,"…Amanda." He sighs her name dreamily. "Any other married guy—well, that's still actually in love with his wife—on our team will tell you the same…" His eyes widen. "Wait a minute. You chose this game over Hermione? Is that what you're telling me?"

I nod and open my mouth to speak, but a second slap to my face in ten minutes shuts my mouth. He screams in my face, "You IDIOT! What are you doing?"

He grabs me by my jersey and shoves me onto the bench. He yells at me so loud that my ears start ringing, "I can't believe you! I've seen how much you love her, and I see how much she loves you! You're scum! You broke the heart of your true love to play a stupid _game_!" His face is only inches from mine and his face turns a color so purple that would've given Uncle Vernon a run for his money. "A game that'll never love you back! A game that'll toss you aside as soon as you're too old, or too injured!" The whole team is looking at me and most of them are shaking their heads. "But Hermione. She would've stayed with you forever! She would've never cast you aside, and you threw her aside for a stupid game!" He starts shaking me back and forth. "You don't deserve her, but I know that she still loves you! So, don't shake off any of my signs for the rest of the game and we'll end this thing quick. You'll go straight up to her and tell her that you're quitting! Do I make myself clear?"

I nod meekly, my eyes downcast. He turns around and looks at the rest of the team, and shouts, "Everybody, do your job! Harry needs to win his wife back!" Joey joins the rest of the team as I put my head in my hands and begin to cry. Joey's words completely woke me up to the truth of the situation. I threw her away for a game! How could I be so stupid!


	4. Innings 5 through 8

**Chapter 4 – Innings 5-8**

**Hermione**

I look at my watch as the fifth inning starts. I sigh, its 8:20. I don't want to leave, I love watching Harry. As if in answer to my thoughts, an announcement blares from the loudspeakers.

"Attention, all passengers waiting for flight 473 to London. Your flight has unfortunately been delayed another half-hour. The new scheduled departure time is 9:30 P.M. We're sorry for the inconvenience."

I let out a sigh of relief as I turn my attention back to the game. It's the start of the fifth, and Harry is working with a fierce determination. He works faster than I've ever seen him work before, striking out the side in less than four minutes. Just before the screen cuts to commercial, the announcer says, "And Harry Potter is perfect through five."

I gasp, and people all around me are talking excitedly to each other. I think back and realize that Harry is indeed perfect, no walks and no hits, and he'll be facing the bottom three next inning. Harry has a perfect game through five innings in the 7th game of the _World Series_.

The bottom of the 5th comes up and brings my attention back to the game. Weirdly, the Angels go down with little fight, and the entire inning passed in 10 minutes. In fact, it almost seemed like they were _trying_ to get out. How else do you explain the fact that Travis Marks took two fastballs right down the middle looking? _I'm being stupid. It's the _World Series. _There's no way that they would _purposely_ get out._

Harry comes up and takes his place on the rubber to start the 6th. The first batter fouls off 13 pitches and brings the count to 3 balls and two strikes. His at-bat is longer than the whole top of the 5th. On the 19th pitch, the batter finally makes good contact.

It's a screamer back up the middle, and I scream as it hits Harry's face and he drops to the ground. I'm freaking out as they show the replay. It's even more sickening in slow motion. The guys around me cheer as they realize that the first baseman caught the ricochet and kept Harry's perfect game alive. They finally cut back to the present, and the cameras show Harry covering his mouth with his hands, with blood running down his arms and dripping off his elbows. He takes his hands off of his face and spits out a mouthful of blood. I'm crying, it looks horrible. He gets up on his hands and knees and spits more blood on the ground. He's searching the ground for something and finally finds it, but it's too small to see. He brings his hands back up to his mouth, and I know that he's wandlessly reattaching his knocked-out tooth.

A couple of trainers and Joey rush out as fast as their legs can carry them. Harry's magical reattachment has done nothing to stem the flow of blood from his mouth. A trainer gives Harry a towel and he wipes off his face and arms and thrusts it back into the trainer's hands. The trainers corner him and try to lead him off the field. Harry shakes them off and shouts at them, spraying blood everywhere. _Fools, I can't believe they tried to pull him out of the game_.

The trainers retreat, and Harry starts circling the mound at a brisk walk, muttering to himself and touching his chest over and over. I'm confused, why is he touching his chest? A guy in the bar has the same idea, for he shouts, "Why's he touching his chest? He got hit in the face!"

A drunken idiot yells, "Maybe he's havin' a heart attack!"

"Don't be stupid!" The first man yells back. "He'd be dying right now! Pssh. Heart attack."

The word heart triggers a memory in my head. I bring my hand up to my chest and feel the necklace that Harry gave me for our anniversary. The most beautiful heart made of ruby. And I gave him…I gave him…

I start crying again as I search his neckline. _There!_ A flash of silver! The tears run thick and fast as I realize why he's touching his chest. "The locket. He-he's still wearing the locket." _I knew I shouldn't have watched the game, it's weakening my resolve._ But still, in the end, Harry will never choose me over the game.

I can't help but cry, though. Harry is still drawing on me for strength, still bringing me to the game with him. _Why did he have to choose the _stupid _game? Why?_

Harry is still spitting mouthfuls of blood on the ground as he finishes the inning. I still love him so much, why couldn't he choose me? I just want him to hold me, to kiss me, to love me. I start hyperventilating as I realize the reality of the situation. He's been taken from me by a game; my one true love is dead to me. And I still love him.

I'm dying as I realize what I'll never feel again. Harry will never hold me, he'll never kiss me, he'll never laugh with me again. I'll never see his goofy grin, I'll never run my fingers through his silky raven locks, I'll never use his strong chest as a pillow again.

_He'll never be in love with me, never again_. The only problem is that I still love him, and I always will.

The nice man gives me a water bottle from his bag and I take a sip to calm down. He asks soothingly, "What's the matter?"

I respond thickly through my sobs. "I-I've lost him. H-he'll never l-love me a-again!" And I still love him.

I somehow realize that the 6th inning is over, and Harry is still perfect. "Who?"

Quite a few of the other men in the bar are listening, but I don't really care. "H-harry!"

A man says, "Harry Potter, the pitcher?"

I nod, not really paying attention to anything around me as my soul screams in agony and my heart shatters. _He'll never love me again_. And I still love him.

"He doesn't love me anymore." And I still love him.

But no one hears me. They're all shouting things like, "Why aren't you there?" and "He loves you!"

I keep saying, "He doesn't love me anymore. He chooses the game," more to me than anyone else. I'm strengthening my resolve, making it easier to leave, making it easier to walk away from the love of my life forever.

**Harry**

I walk onto the mound and signify to the ump that I don't need any warm-ups. I need to finish this before she leaves. I'll die if I lose her.

The first batter hits a grounder that Kris dives for and saves, and throws the runner out at first. I strike the second man out on 5 pitches. The third dribbles a comebacker to me that I easily scoop up and toss to first. I spit out a tad bit of blood as I walk off the field. I'm still bleeding, just not as much.

At the end of the 7th, I have a sudden stroke of genius. "Amanda!" She looks at me. "You need to go and stop Hermione from leaving! Tell her I choose her!" 

Amanda nods and takes off up the stairs, pushing people out of the way. I see her enter a bathroom, and I know she's apparating to the airport. I look at the clock on the scoreboard. 9:20.

**Hermione**

The bottom of the 7th passes by quietly, the ball game is still at 2-0, the Angels on top thanks to Joey's home run.

Harry comes up on the mound and by passes his warm-ups again. As he's settling onto his position on the mound, he takes his cap off of his head and runs his fingers through his hair. "Oh, crap."

All the guys say, "What?"

"He ran his fingers through his hair."

"So?"

"That means he's getting tired. And he's really stubborn, so he won't tell anyone."

"So…"

"So he's probably going to get rocked!"

All the guys shout, "Oh, crap!"

The first guy hits a roping liner up the middle that forces Jerome to make a shoelace catch. Harry runs his hands through his hair again. The number 5 batter hits a ball so far that it surely seems to be a home run. But nope, Jerome again, this time on the warning track.

The nice guy says to me, "You must get to the game. If you can somehow make it, he'll do well again, I know he will."

I watch Ryan hit a ball 500 feet…foul.

"Have you listened to a word I said? He. Doesn't. Love. Me." And I still love him.

"Flight 473 to London now boarding. Flight 473 to London now boarding."

I turn away as Harry somehow strikes out Ryan. I walk out of the bar, not once looking back to see Harry's face. But I still love him.

**Harry**

I walk off of the field. I glance at the clock; it reads 9:30. The giants bring out a wild reliever that works slowly and walks the first two.

It's 9:37 when the Giants manager comes out and replaces.

It's 9:40 and the inning is getting back underway when I hear my name being shouted. I turn around, hope bubbling in my chest, but there's no Hermione with Amanda, who's sobbing.

"There was only one flight to London in the last 6 hours. I just got to the gate when I saw it take off. I'm sorry, Harry…she's gone."

An icy knife plunges into my heart. _She's gone. You drove her away. Gone forever, because you're an idiot_.

I'm not crying. I'm just numb.

The eighth inning ends on a strikeout.


	5. Inning 9

**A/N: The final chapter! This is a short chapter, because it's only about half of the ninth. I hope you guys enjoy!**

**Also, I'll hopefully post the first chapter to **_**I'll Love You Forever**_** later today. I already had this one written out, but I only have an outline for **_**I'll Love You Forever**_**, so the updates may take place every other day instead of every day.**

**Anyway…Please enjoy and leave a review if you have time!**

**Chapter 5 – Inning 9**

**Harry**

I walk onto the field. I breathe in the smell of the grass, dirt, and pine tar. I rub my glove, caressing the leather, as I approach the mound. I can feel the lights blaring down on me. I hear the crowd bellowing itself hoarse as I step onto the rubber with a perfect game on the line in the 9th inning of Game 7 of the World Series.

I could make history with three simple outs.

And I don't care.

I don't care because Hermione's not here to share it with me. I don't care because I'll never share anything with Hermione ever again. I finally chose her over the game—I made the right decision—but it was too late.

I don't care, so I throw a 70 mph fastball right down the middle to the first batter. It's ripped into the gap, and Jerome is forced to lay out for the second time this night to save my perfect game.

And I don't care.

Joey is screaming at me to play it cool, but I don't pay attention. He gives me the signal for a fastball, and I nod my head in assent. I intentionally throw a hanging curveball, and the number 8 batter gets all of it. Dead center. I watch it fly, knowing that my perfect game is gone, just like Hermione.

And I don't care.

But no, Jerome the amazing scales the wall, stretches out his glove, and nabs the ball. When the ball gets back to me Joey yells, "Bring the heat!"

_Okay_. I throw the ball as hard as I can, and it skips on the ground before popping into Joey's mitt. The bullpen is active; a reliever has just started warming up. If I walk this guy, I'll be gone, just like Hermione.

And I don't care.

My next pitch sails high; Joey can't even reach it standing. My next pitch almost hits the batter. The count is 3-0.

And I don't care.

Joey calls time out and jogs up to me. He says, "Harry—"

"I don't care."

"Harry!"

"I don't—"

He slaps my face and points above the third base dugout. I follow his finger. There's Amanda, smiling for some reason.

And next to her, wearing my pitcher's jacket, wearing my other cap, smiling, crying, is the love of my life.

She kisses her fingers and holds them out to me. I bring a trembling hand up to my lips, kiss my fingers, and stretch my arm out to her. My hand stays outstretched for a second before I bring it back to my lips, lightly touching them.

I let out a shaky breath. I'm crying for the second time in one game, but this time I don't care. All that matters is Hermione. Joey pats my shoulder and jogs back to his position behind the plate. I'm still staring at Hermione, and I mouth, "I choose you."

She mouths back, "I love you," and holds up her left hand, where her wedding ring is resting.

I don't care about the game anymore, so I decide to end it as soon as possible. Three pitches and it's over.

The fans are going nuts and my teammates are rushing toward me. I dodge them and run for the stands.

I run on top of the dugout and stop in front of my beautiful wife. I pull her up with me, wrap my arms around her waist, and kiss her.

She breaks the kiss after awhile then stares into my eyes, and I can see the love shining through them.

"I would have been here at the start of the ninth, but I couldn't apparate in without my ticket so, so I had to stop by home. I…I couldn't go, Harry. I can't live without you."

I bring my hand up and lightly caress her cheek. "I'm sorry Hermione. I should've chosen you. I was being a bloody idiot."

She smiles up at me and says, "Its okay, Harry. You made the right choice in the end. Plus, since I'm your 'better half', I have all of the brains out of the two of us, so that _does_ make you a bloody idiot." 

I smile back at her and kiss her, caressing her soft lips with mine. I deepen the kiss and move my hand south to squeeze her bum, and Joey shouts, "Get a room!"

And I don't care.

**Good? Bad? You tell me. Sorry if the end was a little sappy, that's what I like. Anyways, be sure to read my next story: **_**I'll Love You Forever**_**.**


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